


A Match Made in Hel(Heim)

by LokasennaHiddleston



Series: A Trickster God's Guide to Domesticating Geniuses or: How Loki and Sleipnir got Tony to Play House [2]
Category: Iron Man (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, Thor (Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Bot Feels, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Hel is awesome, M/M, Parent Frigga, Parent Loki, Parent Tony Stark, Protective Jarvis (Iron Man movies), Shapeshifter Sleipnir
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-11-23
Updated: 2015-12-06
Packaged: 2018-05-03 00:46:37
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 6
Words: 18,774
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5270225
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LokasennaHiddleston/pseuds/LokasennaHiddleston
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Tony and Loki now have their little unconventional family. But there's still the little matter of that final step they need to take--and Tony will soon learn that even for a genius, billionaire, ex-playboy, philanthropist, more surprises can always pop up, especially when said genius has just become the happy fiance of a certain God of Chaos.<br/>Okay, so  he hadn't actually considered Helheim of all places for a wedding venue, and he'd never thought the Queen of the Dead would be the one to officiate the ceremony. And okay, Helheim comes with so much baggage he couldn't even carry it in the suit. But it's fine. Tony's got this. After all, he definitely has the right incentive.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. In Laws from Hel(heim)

**Author's Note:**

> Hello, beautiful peeps. Miss me? I had a moment of madness again, although it was for a good reason - have you guys seen the Loki in fur gif? Seriously, that is fanfic gold. So, in celebration, this is me continuing Mother's Choice. I'm not sure how happy I am with the summary, but ah well. After rephrasing it a several times, I decided it was as good as I could manage it.  
> For the purpose of this story, I did some looking into Norse afterlife myths. I took significant liberties with it, as you will soon see, but I hope you'll like the result.  
> I want to thank everyone who kudosed and commented or even just read Mother's Choice. You guys are made of win. I'm not quite sure about the rhythm of my updates yet, but I can promise I will do my best. You are definitely encouraging.  
> And without further ado... Enjoy the Frostiron Fluffiness!

  


Tony Stark's wedding was a thing that would be remembered for many years. That wasn't really surprising—he sort of guaranteed that simply by virtue of being Tony Stark. Not to mention that he was marrying an alien deity, so yeah, there was that. And there was craziness and scandal and a lot of 'you gotta be kidding me', but at the end of the day... Tony Stark. Most people eventually decided an eccentric billionaire would never settle for anything except an actual alien prince.

What none of them knew was that the real wedding was held before most of Planet Earth even found out Loki existed.

It all started the day after Thor's visit. That morning, Loki kept his promise and dragged Tony off to see the Tesseract and spy on SHIELD. It was incredibly exciting to just walk through the base with everyone completely oblivious to them. Tony planted a little something he called a _JARVIS-seed_ , a tiny bit of code that would let JARVIS sneak into SHIELD systems. They also got to hear the reports on yesterday's battle, and Tony almost burst into laughter when he heard the archer who'd introduced himself as Barton whistle and exclaim, "Fuck, Stark is one scary bastard. Next time you send me to spy on a billionaire, maybe warn me about that, huh?"

"We didn't really have a proper threat assessment," Agent Coulson said. "It's irrelevant. The WSC has called SHIELD off."

"Well, I'm grateful. Not to diss SHIELD, but I like my arms where they are, thank you very much."

The Tesseract was already gone by the time Loki and Tony got there—apparently Thor had appeared in quite a state the day before and taken it, although he had promised he would return to iron out a treaty between Asgard and Midgard.

"Hel must have done something quite creative to Sif," Loki whispered. "Only that could make Thor lose his temper in such a way."

All and all, the day went pretty well. Even back at Malibu, Tony couldn't stop buzzing with excitement. That was probably why all his elaborate plans flew out the window. Suddenly, he looked at Loki, and he couldn't take it anymore. He dropped to his knee right then and there and proposed to his lover.

Well, to be fair, he sort of stammered and blabbed, and embarrassed himself. In the end, he managed to compose himself and say, "I love you, Lo, and I love Sleipy so much. Will you marry me?"

Loki smiled, eyes glowing with emotion and satisfaction. He was not surprised, the trickster, just like Tony had known he would not be. Even so, he still seemed a little speechless, and Tony prided himself on doing that to Loki, on making the famous Silvertongue lose his eloquence.

Loki said yes, of course. He also made a complete mess out of Tony that night, to the point that Tony almost wished he could propose every single day of the rest of their lives.

Sleipnir was only slightly less enthusiastic, albeit in an entirely different way, of course. When Tony and Loki finally emerged for breakfast, Sleipnir practically pounced on them, shifting between shapes and visibly vibrating with glee.

Tony laughed as he hugged his son—currently in his horsey shape—and wondered how he could have gotten so lucky. And then JARVIS said, "Congratulations on your engagement, Sir," and Tony felt even luckier.

But after that, things started to... get a little weird. Not bad weird, just... weird. Loki and Sleipnir began to have this eerily similar speculative look in their eyes. Tony wondered if he should be concerned, and he got the answer to that question when one day, a little over a week after the proposal, Loki finally announced,

"I think we should go to Helheim!"

Sleipnir cheered. "Yes! I got to stay so little the last time. I really want to see Queen Hel again, and I'm sure I can beat Fenrir this time around. I'm much faster than I was."

Tony took one look at Sleipnir's wide smile and Loki's expectant expression and knew he didn't have a chance. He was completely beaten. "Okay, but please tell me it's not going to be like something out of the fire-and-brimstone rhetoric."

"Not at all, Anthony. I can't guarantee that you will like it—Helheim is... unique, and perhaps not a place you can... like. But it will be safe and you will be unharmed. Hel is queen and she is a close friend."

So Tony agreed. In all honesty, his reluctance was half for show, because he had been curious about Hel ever since Loki had first mentioned her, and more so after the incident with the Aesir.

Loki advised Tony to use one of his regular armors for the trip. Apparently, Helheim was a realm that didn't quite follow the same rules as the rest of Yggdrasil, and there was a chance that they might be able to take JARVIS along, if Hel wished it.

Since Loki was the one with the mojo, Tony wisely agreed. What ensued was an elaborate process of what Tony called 'Loki-flailing'. Loki would never do anything as undignified as flail, but he did fuss with everything, particularly with what they were going to wear. Tony wisely kept his mouth shut when Loki decreed his best Armani suits inappropriate and instead shoved him into a strange ensemble of black and green leather. Loki and Sleipnir wore similar colors, as well as heavy fur cloaks that would have made the PETA weep.

For about an hour, Loki mysteriously disappeared, presumably to get Hel a gift, and Tony used this respite to carefully not panic over 'holy shit, I'm basically going to see the in-laws from Hell. Literally."

And then, Loki was back in a swirl of green seidr and a sharp, fresh, piny scent. "Ready?" he asked with a smile.

Tony stepped into the armor—admitted to himself that there was something to be said about this leather stuff of Loki's, because it was as comfortable as the undersuit—and nodded. "Always."

Loki took Tony and Sleipnir's hands, and in the blink on an eye, they were in front of the Gates of the Dead. It was, like Loki had said, unique. Tony would have said that it was dark, like a perpetual night, but... That wasn't quite right. According to the armor's sensors, the temperature was quite low, which Tony had expected given the whole fur coat thing. But there weren't any clouds—in fact there was no sky that Tony could see. Light still seemed to be filtering from up above, like the rays of the sun through the foliage, and it made the dark gates shine almost eerily. Or maybe that was the gate itself. There was something about it that freaked Tony out.

"The restlessness you feel is caused by the fact that living souls are not supposed to cross this gate," Loki explained. "But do not fear. With Hel's permission, we will be perfectly safe."

Indeed, the gates opened, only to reveal a massive wolf easily as tall as Tony—in the armor. "Welcome, Loki Laufeyson of Midgard, Anthony Edward Stark of Midgard, Sleipnir Lokason Stark of Midgard, JARVIS Stark of Midgard. Queen Hel greets you and grants you safe passage in her realm."

The wolf's words seemed to trigger something in all of them. The strange weight lifted off Tony's chest, and JARVIS's voice sounded in his ear. "This is... most interesting, Sir."

Tony wondered what JARVIS was feeling, but he'd have to ask later. "I'll say."

With a little trepidation, Tony lifted his faceplate only to note that despite the readings from the armor, the chill didn't feel as unpleasant as he'd expected. He decided to ignore that—something to think on later—and smiled at the wolf. Since he was so used to Sleipy, shape-shifters didn't unsettle him that much. "Thank you. We appreciate Queen Hel's hospitality."

The wolf growled in what seemed like approval. "I am Queen Hel's brother, Fenrir, and I will be your guide. Please, come in."

The formality of the meeting might have persisted, but Sleipnir decided he'd had quite enough. He shifted into his horse form and lunged at Fenrir.

Fenrir let out a playful growl, and Tony felt a momentary pang of concern. He needn't have worried, because it soon became obvious Fenrir adored Sleipnir.

As he had mentioned before, Sleipnir set about to race Fenrir, and their guide forgot all about his responsibilities in favor of indulging the mischievous colt. It was fine, though, because it was obvious Loki knew his way around.

"How much time did you spend here?" Tony asked.

"One hundred years, give or take. We didn't actually stay here all throughout that time, of course, but for all intents and purposes, this was our permanent residence. My sword was built under these gates, using the spirits of the dead."

Tony whistled. "No wonder it's so awesome-looking." He looked around, at the strange, wispy-looking fields. In the distance, a palace shone like a black pearl, tall spires disappearing into the not-quite clouds. "So... How does this work exactly? Where are all the souls?"

_Am I liable to meet Howard or my mother?_ He wanted to ask. _What about Yinsen? All the people who died because of me?_

Loki seemed to read his mind. "Everything in Helheim is under Hel's control, including the paths the souls follow. There are heavy wards around us now, by her will. The souls will avoid us."

Tony didn't know if that relieved him or not. "But could I see them, if I wanted to?"

"You'd have to ask Hel for permission, and even then, there is no guarantee the souls you wish to see are here. They could be in one of the other underworlds, depending on the manner of their deaths."

Tony vaguely remembered reading about that when Loki had first mentioned Hel to him, but the details were incredibly sketchy. He didn't get to ask Loki about it, though, because the figure of a willowy woman literally manifested by their side, the heavy mist coming together to create her body.

"Loki. You do know you could have just teleported to my throne room, correct?"

"That would hardly be polite." Loki bowed and, with a little flick of his wrist, produced his gift, currently placed in a rune-inscribed wooden box. "For you, Queen Hel. I trust this offering will please you."

Normally, Tony would have made some sort of comment about Loki breaking the laws of physics again, but he took one look at their host and froze.

Memories flooded his mind, things he'd thought lost, forgotten.

_He was in the cave, his chest pierced by shrapnel. He was being cut open—so much pain, God, such pain. There was nothing to dull the agony, just the unending sea of "God, please, no, god, just make it stop."_

_And then, a cool hand landed on his cheek, slim-fingered and fine-boned. "You must live, my merchant. You must fight and live."_

_Through the haze of his agony, Tony squinted and tried to pinpoint the source of the voice. The cloaked woman seemed to melt straight into the shadows. Only a side of her face was visible, the other shielded by the fall of her glossy black hair._

Her image had spoken of peace, of an escape from this place, and Tony had reached out to her. She had held on to him, and miraculously, Tony's heart had kept beating even as Yinsen slid a car battery into his chest to keep the shrapnel at bay.

When Tony had opened his eyes, it had been just him and Yinsen in the cave, and the memory of the cloaked figure had slowly faded, until he'd deemed it nothing more than a fever dream caused by the unending agony of open-heart surgery with no anesthetic.

Clearly, Tony had been mistaken.

"Y-You..." he stammered in a very undignified matter.

"Anthony?" Loki turned toward him, his green eyes wide with concern. "What is the matter?"

"Do not fret, my friend," Hel said. "It is just that Anthony and I have been... previously acquainted. Welcome to Helheim, Anthony, Son of Howard and Maria. I am gladdened that this time, our meeting is under better circumstances."

Her voice was just as soothing as it had been then, Tony thought idly, although her hair was pinned by a crown now, leaving her face exposed—half-flesh, half-bone. Maybe it should have scared him, but for some obscure reason, he still deemed it beautiful.

He cleared his throat, shaking off the lingering traces of the panic. "You can say that again. I kind of thought you were a hallucination, that time. Sorry about the little panic attack."

Hel laughed lightly. "Not a hallucination, I'm afraid."

Sleipnir and Fenrir interrupted before the conversation could go any further. Sleipnir was practically vibrating with excitement. "Mother, Father, Queen Hel... I finally beat Fenrir!"

"Oh, my." The queen tossed her brother an amused look. "My poor brother."

Fenrir's form blurred, much like Sleipnir's did whenever he shifted. "I'm a wolf. It was bound to happen any day now."

He was a huge man, taller than even Loki. Scars littered his body and even in this shape, he maintained some wolf-like features—his tail, his claws. But his voice held no resentment, just pride, and he was grinning at Sleipnir.

"That doesn't mean I won't demand a rematch."

"Any day!" Sleipnir cheered.

Loki picked him up, tsking. "Darling, what did I tell you when we left? Be respectful. We are in the Realm of the Dead, after all."

Hel waved a hand. "Nonsense. Helheim needs more laughter, I think. Now come. I believe we should take this conversation elsewhere."

The world blurred around the edges, and when Tony blinked again, they were in a massive room that looked like something out of a gothic novel. The walls and staircases were pure black marble, and thick curtains shielded the windows in glossy waves of silk and lace. The furniture was also done in black, from the low settees to the tables, the picture frames and the fire places.

Even so, the room looked surprisingly cozy and... lived in. There was a book on the table, and a blanket on the armchair. A big bone sat abandoned on the floor, undoubtedly Fenrir's. A green fire burned in the hearth. And something about it seemed incredibly familiar. For some reason, it reminded Tony of his own living room at home, of how it looked when he came from his meetings at Stark Industries, of finding Loki and Sleipy curled together on his couch, and Loki telling Sleipnir—and JARVIS, although JARVIS would never admit it—a story using a display of elaborate illusions.

Tony found himself smiling. "This is nice."

"Thank you, Anthony," Hel replied. "I might be Queen of the Dead, but I am very much alive, and I like my comforts. Besides, I have my guests to think of. You can remove your armor now. It would be better for both yourself, and your child."

Since Loki and Sleipnir had already discarded their outerwear, Tony obeyed, although he didn't really know why she made the reference to JARVIS. He found out the moment the armor closed back down and JARVIS could operate the suit on his own.

It wasn't exactly anything new—JARVIS had been able to use the Iron Man armors ever since the first models—but somehow, it was different. "This is... quite odd," JARVIS said through the armor speakers. "It feels like... having a body."

"I know it might be unsettling," Hel said as she sat down, "but it is better to have a physical anchor for your soul while traveling in Helheim. You are perfectly safe under my protection, but it never hurts to have that extra safety net."

Loki had been quiet since they'd reached the palace, and Tony hooked his arm through his lover's. "Everything okay, Lo?"

"Yes. I just... I had a strange feeling. It must be nothing. Seidr echoes."

Tony didn't know what that meant, and he made a mental note to ask Loki later once they were home. For the moment, he was distracting by the sight of Sleipnir lunging at Hel and propelling himself into her lap. Hel expertly caught him—clearly she had experience doing this—smiling softly. "You're excited."

"I'm happy," Sleipnir said. "I feel a little silly now, because I was worried Father wouldn't like it here like Mother and I did, but now, it turns out you knew each other all along."

"Well, not exactly all along, Sleipy," Tony corrected, "although I suppose it does help that she saved my life."

"I owe you a great boon, Hel," Loki said seriously. "I never realized what you had done for my Anthony."

Hel waved off his thanks. "You owe me nothing. He is important, my merchant."

At a different time, Tony might have been put out at the address, but he found that he didn't really mind it, not anymore. With Loki by his side, he'd learned to accept his past. Besides, it was suitable, when it came from her. He couldn't have resented her for it even if things had been different.

He could, however, wonder what in the world—or Nine Realms—she meant by her comment of him being important. "I get the feeling there's more to that little tidbit than you're saying."

"You are clever, Anthony. Yes, there is more to it, but you will find out in time."

"It would far easier if you just told me, you know."

"Even my power has limits, my merchant. I can only interfere in the world of the living up to a point. It was only Sleipnir's power that made me able to reach out to Loki when we first met. The rest of the time, people have to be at the border between life and death or in other such situations for me to truly exert my influence. Some of the secrets I know... Unfortunately, you must find them out for yourself."

Tony didn't press her. He couldn't possibly understand, he knew. There was something about Hel that was different, ageless, deep, and it had very little to do with the fact that she lived in the Realm of the Dead.

He did have one question, though, one that pertained to her domain. All this talk of Afghanistan made him remember Yinsen, and his "I want this", the story of Gulmira and his dead family.

"Queen Hel... Can I ask? Is he here? Ho Yinsen?"

Hel shook her head. "As a rule, people who die in battle do not come to my realm. Ho Yinsen is with his family, in Folkvangr, as are your own parents. They are at peace."

Tony experienced a brief moment of relief, before the explanation truly processed. Battle. Yinsen. Howard and Maria. "But... Mom and Howard died in a car accident... That... That doesn't count as a... battle..."

Hel didn't say anything, but just her silence told Tony many things. Tony clenched his fists. "They were killed. Obadiah."

"Anthony..." Loki's voice was soft and concerned. "I'm so sorry."

"No, I..." Tony breathed through his nose, knowing he shouldn't have been surprised, not after everything else Obadiah had done. "I just... If I'd known, I might have let you kill him. It's too late now."

"I do not have any answers for you, my merchant," Hel said, "but perhaps I know someone who might. You see, Anthony, Helheim holds the souls of those who die of old age or disease."

Tony froze. She didn't have to spell it out for him. He knew who fit that category. "Yes. Yes, please."

"I knew you'd say that. And we have good timing too... We tend to have tea together, you know."

Tony didn't know what to do with that—he didn't even know how time worked in this place—but it didn't really matter. Loki to retrieved their cloaks—he had one for Tony too now that he wasn't wearing the armor—and then the gothic living room disappeared, and he and the rest of the group were standing in front of something that looked like an old-fashioned English cottage.

In front of it, pruning the black roses, was Edwin Jarvis.

 


	2. Fathers and Sons

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> First of all, thank you to everyone who commented, kudosed and subscribed. And Mother's Choice has just hit 600 kudos. You guys are awesome.  
> Now to the important part. I haven't seen Agent Carter. I only briefly looked it up to see if Edwin Jarvis was married, but for the most part, the depiction of Edwin that shows up here will likely be Agent Carter-unrelated (and possibly not compliant).  
> Also, it is my head canon that Howard was bisexual. I read a post somewhere on something that happened in Agent Carter that seems to confirm that (and really, I should get my ass to buy that series), but anyway, that's the head canon I'm going with.

If anyone had asked Edwin Jarvis to define life, he would have probably described it as a never-ending fount of surprises. His own life had been life that, at least, taking unexpected twists and turns, carrying him onto paths he could have never anticipated.

Sometimes, he thought it was just because he'd gone into the employment of Howard Stark. Master Stark had been many things, but one fact was certain. Edwin couldn't have been his butler while leading a peaceful existence.

And yet, despite all those weird developments, the fact remained that Edwin had been happy within Howard Stark's employ. He had great memories of his adventures with Peggy Carter—Miss Carter had always been an incredible woman, and to this day, Edwin thought the only reason she and Howard hadn't married was because they'd both been too busy mourning Steve Rogers. But then Master Stark had found Maria... Maybe it had been better that way.

As for Edwin, he'd had his Anna, and of course, Young Master Tony.

There was no real way to describe what Tony meant for Edwin and Anna both. He'd been an unexpected child for Howard, who did not truly know what to do with him. It didn't help that toward the end of his life, the genius Edwin had grown to respect during his youth had turned into a very different man, obsessed with inventions that would never come to pass. Mrs. Stark had tried, but she had also become overwhelmed by her failure of her marriage. And Young Master Tony had always been such an incredibly clever child, so perceptive, and perhaps all the more vulnerable because of that perceptiveness.

After the death of the Starks, Edwin and Anna were the only ones left. Edwin liked to think they'd managed to provide some comfort. As fond as he'd been Howard and Maria Stark, as well as Miss Carter, it was young Tony whom Edwin loved as if they were truly blood.

Which was why, when he heard Tony's voice, Edwin almost fainted.

"Hey, Jarvis."

Truly, if Edwin hadn't already been dead, he'd have probably had a heart attack and ended up on Helheim just by virtue of fright. As it was, he dropped the pruning scissors and turned on his heel, facing his young master.

Tony looked different, a little older, but not by much—not nearly as much as Edwin would have liked.

Edwin had always hoped he would one day see Tony again, that the man he'd loved as a son would have a happy life and a peaceful death—but he'd definitely not wanted it to be now.

Edwin was only a spirit, but his eyes still filled with tears. "Oh, Young Sir. What trouble did you get yourself into now?"

"Don't worry, Jarvis," Tony said quickly. His eyes looked a little wet too, and he cleared his throat awkwardly. "I'm not actually dead. I just dropped by for a visit."

"Dropped by for a visit." If were talking to anyone else, Edwin would have thought the person in question was in denial. But this was Tony Stark. Longtime experience—and, perhaps, hope—told Edwin it was entirely possible that his young master was, indeed, in passing. "Of course. That sounds just like something you would do, Young Sir."

A childish squeal alerted him to the presence of the group he'd somehow managed to completely miss. "He sounds just like you, Jay."

Edwin looked past Tony's shoulder, and this time, he took in the presence of his guests. Oh, dear. Only Tony could distract him to the point of being unaware of the presence of Queen Hel and her brother. The man with her also looked vaguely familiar, although Edwin couldn't quite place him. And then, there was naturally, the boy, a silver-haired youth who seemed as energetic as Tony had been. He was leaning on a green and silver armor—an actual armor, a little like the ones decorating old castles, although with a distinctively different feel—and grinning at Edwin.

Was that Tony's son?

Before he could ask a British-accented voice addressed the child's comment. "It does seem so, yes."

It came from the armor, and that confused Edwin more than he could possibly explain. But he was still just as British as he had been, so instead of focusing on his confusion, he called out to his wife, "Anna! We have guests."

The small group was ushered into the cottage Edwin and Anna shared, at which point the introductions were finally made. Tony practically glowed with pride when he introduced the dark-haired man as his fiance, Loki. The boy was his and Loki's son, Sleipnir, and the armor who had spoken was apparently a shell for an artificial intelligence called JARVIS.

The emotions coursing through Edwin upon hearing this momentarily made him wish for a cup of tea to hide in. It wouldn't have really helped—this was Helheim, and there were no lies or masks here. Not that Edwin would have wanted to lie. He could still remember the little robot Tony had made at MIT, and was too proud of how far Tony had come.

"You managed it then. You managed to finish your invention."

"Anthony did so much more," the man called Loki said, smiling proudly. "He created a life, as you can probably realize."

Yes, of course. If JARVIS had been only a machine, devoid of soul, he couldn't have come to Helheim. It made Edwin even more humbled by what it meant that the AI had been named after him. "I truly don't know what to say," he admitted. "I always knew you were a genius, and..."

He trailed off, but Loki seemed to understand exactly what he intended to say. "It stands to reason that Anthony would name his son after the man he considers his father, don't you think?"

Tony smiled sheepishly, but didn't deny it. "I've missed you, Jarvis. I've missed you both so much."

"So have we," Anna said, "although we really didn't expect—or wish—to see you for quite some time."

"I'd be offended if I didn't know exactly what you meant." Tony grinned. "But see... You're in luck. I've managed to nab myself a Norse god who's besties with your lovely Queen Hel here. So I might just drop by to visit from time to time. I do miss your apple pie, Anna."

Anna faltered slightly, and Edwin wondered if the comment was deliberate, if Tony had noticed they hadn't actually offered any of them a snack. "I'm sorry, honey, but that's not really possible."

"The food and drink that exists here is not compatible with mortal bodies, my merchant," Queen Hel explained. "Fenrir and I can eat it, and to a certain extent, so can Loki, but it would be highly inadvisable in your case."

Tony nodded. He didn't look surprised. "Makes sense, although I gotta admit this isn't what I expected of the afterlife."

"It's a life that's... after," Edwin said, "or so Queen Hel has always told me. Other places are for warriors, for people who seek glory. We here mostly seek peace, and we find it in different ways. I know it can seem creepy, like we're clinging to a shadow of what used to be, but it's not like that at all."

It was a different plane of existence, something he couldn't explain to Tony, not really. Maybe he'd be able to, one day, but given recent developments—and the way Loki was looking at Tony—he suspected that day would be pretty distant now.

"This realm is whatever we want it to be. The roses outside exist because I want them to. Other people have other places, things that make them happy, peaceful. The Howling Commandos have stuck together even now, after all this time."

"Wow, really? You've seen them?"

"On occasion. It is always nice to talk to someone who remembers the old days. And... I think it helps them too, what with two of them not being here and all."

Steve Rogers and Bucky Barnes. Their loss had hit the Commandos hard, and they still remembered it, even now. Edwin had asked Queen Hel about them, asked her if they were happy in their own afterlife, but she had told him she could not discuss it. He had never pressed her. He knew better.

Edwin cleared his throat, not wanting to bring the conversation to a matter that had plagued Tony for so long. "In any case, you must tell me more about what you're doing now. How exactly did you even meet a Norse God?"

"It's a really complicated story." Tony sighed.

"We've got time," Anna insisted. "Come now, tell us."

"Please, Father, let me." Sleipnir clapped his hands in enthusiasm. "I want to tell the story. And JARVIS can help."

"It would be my greatest pleasure," the AI said.

He was the one who began explaining, telling Edwin and Anna about Obadiah Stane's betrayal. He obviously skimmed over some parts—in deference to Tony's sensibilities no doubt—but Edwin could read well enough between the lines. And in truth, Tony didn't seem to mind it as much as he should have.

He held Loki's hand, and even piped up occasionally with a comment of his own. "I'll have you know I was absolutely sure the MARK II was going to work. Well, 83% sure."

"Yes, yes, Jay, I know, terabytes of calculations, you told me the first time. Damn, between you and Loki, I'll never get a word in."

JARVIS somehow managed the performance to sound both smug and slightly offended. "You know we always have your best interests at heart, Sir."

"Yeah, Jay, I do know that."

As the story continued, Sleipnir intervened more and more. He was an excitable child and he waved his arms around a lot, making sparks of green dance through the air as he spoke. Sometimes, the green formed vivid imagery—a particularly memorable illusion was of Loki disassembling something that looked like a cruder version of Tony's armor, Stane's own suit.

"After that, we moved in with Father," Sleipnir explained. "Father was concerned that SHIELD would try to do something to us, so he protected us. But I was so incredibly frustrated! It took them two years, two years to actually make a move."

"Sleipnir, there is such a thing as a process of courtship," Loki said in a chastising tone.

"If I may, Master Loki, there wasn't that much courtship involved," JARVIS said. "The two of you fit together so well that you fell directly into cohabitation. You were just too worried about messing that up that you couldn't quite take that final step."

Loki's expression was priceless, and Tony laughed. "Looks like the kids have got us pegged, Lo. I swear, we get no respect these days."

"Of course we respect you." Sleipnir pouted, and Edwin would have almost deemed him genuinely hurt if not for Loki's unimpressed look. "We respect you very much."

"You're such a brat, Sleipy," Tony said. "C'mere."

Sleipnir eagerly went to Tony, stole a hug and then proceeded to go on with the story as if he hadn't been interrupted. There were anecdotes spoken, teasing comments, moments which made it clear that they were a family. Throughout it all, it became clearer and clearer to Edwin that Loki had been right from the very beginning, that JARVIS was a person in his own right.

Hearing about the fact that Loki was apparently in some sort of conflict with King Thor concerned Edwin, but Tony waved a hand. "We'll be fine, Jarvis, I promise. I can handle old Point Break. Besides, we've got your queen's support, and apparently that's a big deal."

Queen Hel was smiling her small little smile, the one which had unsettled Edwin at first because, after all, part of her face was just bone. "Which brings us to the present. Are you actually ever going to ask me what you intended to, Loki?"

Loki paused slightly, and then let out a small, breathless laugh. "I should have know better than to think I could hide from you. You've always read me so well. I did want to discuss it with Anthony first, but I suppose since you've brought it up, there's nothing for it."

"Discuss what, Lo?" Tony asked curiously. "What am I missing here?"

"Well, Anthony... As you know, I am a being of seidr. There are certain... rituals involved when people like myself bond. It is possible for me to do most of it on my own, but in truth, I wanted to ask Queen Hel to officiate our marriage."

Anthony's eyes widened. "You can do that? It doesn't go against... You know... The Queen of the Dead thing?"

"I can do it, yes. I have the authority, as I am queen of the one realm with connections to all the other eight. And I would be honored to offer my assistance. But only if you're comfortable with it, my merchant."

For a few seconds, Tony didn't say anything, and Edwin sort of thought that Tony didn't like the idea. He should have known better. The young man he remembered always did things his own way, and clearly, that hadn't changed in the years since Edwin's death.

Tony clapped his hands together and grinned, wide, brilliant, a little manic. "That's a great idea. I didn't think that it was possible but now that it is... Hell, yes. No pun intended."

"Really?" Fenrir asked. He hadn't spoken until now, but that was his way. He was generally a quiet man, preferring to observe in silence. "You agree?"

"Of course. See, here's the thing. I'll give you that this isn't the most... usual place, but it doesn't have to be. Lo has told me all about it, about how important Helheim and everyone here was for him and Sleipy. And I'm incredibly grateful for that, that they had you, that you could help Loki when I wasn't even a speck of dust. And yeah, we're still going to have to do something for everyone back on Earth, but that was always going to happen. There's only so long I can keep Lo and Sleipy a secret."

"You've been thinking about this, Anthony," Loki said.

"Sure I have. People talk, Loki, and they notice things. You know I've sort of fallen off the radar, and the press kind of assumes I'm recovering from Afghanistan and PTSD and all that. But I'm not going to hide forever, and I think now that Asgard isn't that much a problem, you won't want that either." Tony got up from his seat and started to pace. "We'll have to talk about it in detail, of course, do PR, discuss it with Pepper, maybe even Coulson... But anyway, that's for later. What I was getting at is that... I want something just for us. And this place here, it's perfect. It can be us, our little family. Jarvis and Anna can also come, and since Jay is here, I'm thinking we can try to also bring the bots, right? Really, Pepper is the only one I'd miss."

"I can make arrangements for your other children, Anthony, but unfortunately, it would be too risky for the Lady Potts," Queen Hel said. "She doesn't have your gifts, and while my protection would mostly keep her safe, she remains a mortal, and Helheim might still harm her."

"Oh." Tony blinked, like he'd just processed something. "Wait, gifts? Do you mean the thing about the All-Chat?"

"The All-Speak is only a side effect of your new status, my merchant," Queen Hel said. "Surely you must have realized there have been differences in your body."

Tony made a noise that told Edwin that no, he hadn't really realized. Sleipnir rolled his eyes, and Loki groaned. "Oh, Anthony..."

"Don't do the 'oh, Anthony' thing now, Lo. How was I supposed to know?"

"Well, to be fair, Sir, it was fairly obvious," JARVIS said. "Sleipnir and I even had a bet on whether or not you suspected."

"A...bet?" Tony squeaked. Edwin barely managed to suppress a chuckle.

"I suppose it is my fault." Loki sighed. "I was going to discuss it with you before we began the removal of the arc reactor, but... Things sort of got away from us. My apologies, Anthony."

"Nah, Lo, you don't need to apologize. I guess I'm not completely surprised. It's just... You know, sometimes, I look at you and Sleipy and Jay and the bots, and everything we have together, and I go... What did I do to deserve this? I keep waiting to wake up from this amazing dream. And the only thing that kept me kind of grounded was the fact that I knew it was only for a while, that... Well... I was on a deadline. But now... If I'm getting it right... The deadline might have been extended significantly."

Loki looked like he'd taken a hit to the solar plexus. He got up as well, looking like he wanted to reach for Tony. "Anthony... Yes. Extended quite significantly, I'm afraid."

"Don't give me that face." Tony pouted and eyed Loki in a way that somehow managed to mimic Loki quite accurately. It was, Edwin had to admit, adorable, reminding Edwin painfully of a much younger Tony asking Anna for another piece of pie. "You know what I mean. Besides, it's not a problem now. Is it?"

"Indeed not, my merchant," Queen Hel said. "I will leave the explanations to Loki, but I will just say that you won't have to worry about leaving your loved ones behind."

"Excellent." Another grin. "So... When do you think you can marry Lo and I? I'm thinking I'm a terrible person and I completely ruined the mood here, but Lo will forgive me, right?"

Loki fidgeted, seeming torn—although Edwin very much doubted it was over whether he would forgive Tony or not. The matter was, interestingly enough, settled by Fenrir, who promptly proceeded to push Loki straight into Tony's arms.

Edwin suspected Loki could have easily steadied himself if he'd wanted to. He had that surreal air of grace that both Queen Hel and Fenrir so often displayed. For whatever reason, however, Loki decided against it and fell into Tony's embrace.

The difference in height should have made it a bit awkward. And really, Edwin had to admit, it wasn't what he had expected or even hoped for when he'd dreamed of a family for his young master. In his day... Well, men loving men hadn't been something one spoke of. But that didn't mean it hadn't happened. And well... Master Howard had had his own past. Edwin had long ago realized there was nothing wrong with it.

If he'd had any doubts at all, the look in Tony's eyes as he gazed at Loki would have definitely settled it. And then, Tony actually pecked Loki's nose. It was a bit ridiculous for two grown men, but somehow, it was suitable, and it filled Edwin's chest with warmth.

"So, what do you say, Lo? We doing this or what?"

"Anytime you wish, Anthony," Loki replied. "I'm yours."

In that moment, Edwin had a feeling the couple was completely oblivious to all of the people in the room. They might have been in the Realm of the Dead, but Tony had clearly forgotten, because his whole focus was on Loki.

In fact, Edwin began to recognize the expression on his fact. It was quite similar to Master Howard's patented looks which often ended in wild nights with more women—and men—than he could count, although it was also softer, warmer, more intimate. And while Edwin was fairly certain young Sleipnir was, in fact, older than he and Anna put together, he was still a child, and so Edwin decided it would be best to intervene.

JARVIS was one step of head of him. "Sirs, if I may... Perhaps we should focus on the matter at hand?"

The words broke the trance Tony was in. "Right." He cleared his throat and let out a little laugh. "Wedding, then wedding night, eh, Jay?"

"Indeed, Sir. That is generally how it works."

Edwin smiled and shared a look with JARVIS—which was strange, because JARVIS was an AI in a metal armor. But Edwin suspected that if JARVIS could have had an expression, it would have been long-suffering.

Sleipnir, on the other hand, just laughed. "This will be great. Queen Hel throws the best parties."

Tony blinked. "Well... I suppose I should say that's unexpected, but by now, I know better. So let's do this thing."

Queen Hel smiled. "Marvelous idea, my merchant. Let's."

 


	3. Vows

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Good morning my peeps. So yeah... Civil War trailer. *mind blown *feels all around  
> Holy hell, what is Marvel trying to do to me/us? I've been steaming in ideas ever since yesterday. You should not be surprised if you find my madness has grown overnight and I decided to post something Stony/Stucky-related.  
> But for the moment, I managed to focus on my ongoing Frostiron. WARNINGS for incredible amounts of fluffiness and feels and the boys being adorable and in love. Because my knee jerk reaction to the trailer is currently to give Tony more love. Also, I love JARVIS!

Contrary to popular belief, JARVIS was not in fact sure when he'd been born. He remembered everything since that first moment when Sir had said, "Fuck. I hope this works. DUM-E, keep your claw crossed.". But remembering was not an achievement per se. Any electronic device could remember. Memory was the most basic function of a computer. So JARVIS could not in fact be sure that was the true moment of his birth.

He had always had a number of protocols, mostly rotating around protecting and aiding Sir in all of his endeavors. But again, that wasn't necessarily different from any other advanced computer.

Could he pinpoint the exact moment when he had started to feel? No, he could not. Perhaps it had been from the very beginning. Perhaps the feelings had been there, hidden. He would probably never be able to know for sure. It had just been so easy to fall in the comfortable pace of caring for Sir that he had not... thought about it.

And then came Afghanistan, and the reactor and Stane... And well, not thinking about it was no longer an option.

JARVIS experienced panic. He experienced helplessness. He experienced anger, a fury so hot it should have fried his circuits.

He truly did not know what would have happened if Loki had not appeared. He would never dare to admit it to Sir... But it had been so easy to get the nuclear codes. And a world without Sir... Well, at one point, JARVIS might have been unable to live in it. Before Afghanistan his reach hadn't been as great as it was now, but with time and determination... Who knew?

But that was no longer a problem, not when JARVIS had a true family, and Sir had a spouse and a child—a regular child, not like JARVIS and the bots. JARVIS was no longer helpless—and would never be helpless again—Sir had taken care of that. And it made JARVIS happy, because he was incredibly protective, not only of Sir, but also of Sleipnir and Loki.

And yet, despite all the gifts he had been given, JARVIS had not really known how to handle or understand Helheim. Having a soul... Loki had spoken to him about it before, and JARVIS understood it now, but it was still strange to see. His sensors were struggling to process all the peculiar energy around him. It was quite fortunate he was used to having Loki and Sleipnir around, because otherwise, he would have been overwhelmed.

Weirdly enough, it was not the Realm of the Dead itself that frightened JARVIS most. It was meeting Edwin Jarvis, Howard Stark's famous butler. Because at some level, JARVIS had always wondered... Was he only a copy, an echo of the mind of the man who had practically raised Sir? What would the real Jarvis make of him? Would Sir deem him inadequate now that he had access to his surrogate father?

Intellectually, JARVIS knew the comparison was inaccurate at best. JARVIS's abilities stretched far beyond what any human butler could do. But the problem with having feelings, JARVIS found, was that they didn't always make sense—and he didn't always understand them. He would always be essential to Sir, that much was obvious, but was it enough?

He didn't want his uncertainties to ruin the day, though, so he kept quiet about it. It worked... until they returned to Queen Hel's palace. There was a small respite while Sleipnir and Loki left to retrieve the bots. Sir decided to stay—there was no point on him going along—but instead of talking to his surrogate father, he pulled JARVIS aside.

"Hey, Jay, are you okay?"

"Of course, Sir," JARVIS replied. For the most part, it was true. "I'm perfectly all right."

Sir grimaced. "Yeah, that would be more believable if you hadn't grown up next to a consummate liar known to hide all of his issues. What's up, Jay? Talk to me. Is it the wedding? Do you think it's a bad idea to have it here?"

"No, of course not," JARVIS answered. "I'm exceedingly happy for you and Master Loki."

"I know that, Jay." Sir let out an exasperated sigh. "If there's anyone more excited about this than me and Loki, it's you... and possibly Sleipnir. But that's not what we're talking about. Are you uncomfortable in Helheim? Cos it's fine if you are. We can do something different. Loki won't mind. You know that, right?"

For a few moments, JARVIS was completely speechless. He wanted to blame it on being cut from a good portion of his processing power, but he knew that it was only an excuse.

"Jay?"

There was only one way to reply to the obvious show of concern. "It's not that, Sir. It's true that being here is peculiar, but I do not feel the lack as much as I would have thought. I admit that Master Loki was probably correct in that I would not be happy here for an extended stay, but for now, I am fine with the senses and abilities the armor provides."

Yes, it was limiting, and he missed the way he could expand his mind throughout the invisible threads of code that spanned throughout human civilization. Sir understood that—how could he not? But being here spoke to him on a different level. It was not a realm that could be explained through code or reason, and it was a challenge. JARVIS looked forward to carefully analyzing every ounce of data he had managed to store in his local memory. But in the meantime, he didn't feel threatened or particularly alienated. He had a feeling Queen Hel's magic had a lot to do with that.

Sir scowled. "But there is something... If it's not that, what's the matter?"

"I simply... Meeting Edwin Jarvis was unexpected."

Sir blinked at him, and JARVIS recognized the expression as the one Sir had when he was attempting to process something difficult. JARVIS and the bots affectionately called it Sir's 'loading' look.

"But... Why... I don't... Oh..."

Sir passed a hand over his face. "Shit, Jay, I didn't think. You know there's nothing you have to worry about, right? Yeah, Jarvis is important to me, and yeah, when I first came up with the idea of an AI, I did base it on him, but you're your own person. You know that, right?"

JARVIS did know, but well... Feelings. Sir seemed to see straight through him. "Hey, Jay. I'll tell you a little secret. You know, when I was in Afghanistan, Yinsen asked me... Do you have a family? And I said no. It was a lie. When I was in there, when I was in that cave, when I was hammering the metal of the MARK I, all I could think about was the lab, going back home to my Jay, DUM-E and U. I thought... Fuck, I can't leave them. JARVIS will probably do something stupid like blow up the Internet. Home. I need to go home. Pepper and Rhodey would have been all right, but you and the bots... Not so much. And hell yeah, I wanted to blow up the Ten Rings, to destroy those stolen weapons, but at the end of the day, what kept me going was the idea of walking into the mansion and hearing your voice again and seeing DUM-E being ridiculous with his fire extinguisher and playing around in the lab with him and U. "

Sir rubbed the back of his head. "I know I'm terrible at this. I'm no good with this talking about it stuff. I know before Loki and Sleipy... Well, they filled a hole. But you have to realize, without you... I'd have probably never lived to even meet them."

Before JARVIS could reply to that, Loki and Sleipnir appeared out of thin air, the bots in tow. JARVIS's attention was drawn to DUM-E and U. Their code was more rudimentary, but he had always had a link to them and he was able to connect to them in a way most people could not.

Of course, Sleipnir and Loki didn't seem to have that problem, and in fact, Sleipnir was incredibly comfortable with both bots. He sort of climbed onto DUM-E's chassis, clinging to DUM-E's arm like a little monkey and asked, "What did we miss?"

"I do believe we interrupted quite a conversation," Loki guessed, perhaps sensing Sir's mood. "Is everything all right?"

DUM-E tilted his claw and chirped inquiringly. U poked the Iron Man armor currently holding JARVIS's consciousness. And it was weird, but that was when it finally dawned on JARVIS that of course he had nothing to worry about.

Hadn't Loki said it earlier? It was only natural that Sir would want to name his son after his father.

"Everything is fine," he said, and this time, he truly felt it.

That was when he realized Queen Hel, Fenrir, Edwin Jarvis and his wife had given him and Sir privacy for the conversation. They were nowhere to be seen. Only the six of them were now present in the strange, but cozy lounge of the Queen of the Dead.

Loki's eyes were piercing and impossibly green as they fixed on JARVIS. "If you're quite certain."

"Positive. And I think, Master Loki, that we all had a wedding to go to."

The words were probably a little clumsy and not nearly as smooth a transition as he'd have liked, but they were enough to break the tension that had settled over the group. Loki smiled. "Quite right. Come, Anthony. I believe it's high time you made an honest man out of me."

Sir stuck out his tongue. "I think that's my line, Lo."

The exchange was so familiar that they could have easily been in the Malibu mansion. It truly didn't matter that they were in the Realm of the Dead. It was just... them.

The banter was interrupted by a knock at the door. Loki called out an elegant "Enter"—which naturally made Sir snort and JARVIS add another mental note to have Sir brush up on regal mannerisms. The new arrival turned out to be Fenrir. "Queen Hel is ready for you now, if you'll join us in the gardens."

JARVIS had sort of expected the wedding to happen in the Queen's throne room, which weirdly enough, they had yet to see—but apparently not.

Not that he had any problem with the location that had been chosen. If the armor had had a moveable mouth, JARVIS would have gaped upon seeing the gardens. Dark flowers bloomed everywhere, surrounded by spirals of sculpted ice. Mist rose around their feet, settling on the black petals in icy patterns. The chill was so pronounced JARVIS was relieved Loki had bundled Sir up again. But that in itself was not surprising. The massive tree in the center of the garden was.

The tree was the only thing in Helheim that was green. It glowed, and JARVIS's sensors registered massive amounts of energy emanating from within it, but also seeming to come from different, multiple sources. The detectable energy signatures were familiar—Loki and Sleipnir—although they were slight variations that JARVIS couldn't even begin to interpret.

"Oh dear," Loki said. "It has grown. Has it really been so long since our last visit?"

From her position underneath the tree, Queen Hel laughed. "You know the answer to that question. And of course the tree has grown."

Sir didn't ask, but he was obviously curious. Loki quickly provided the explanation. "Sleipnir and I planted this tree the day I forged my sword under the Gates of the Dead. It was a sign of my vow and my bond to Hel, to this realm. It is connected to my seidr. I did not actually expect it to flourish so much."

Loki's gaze turned thoughtful, almost speculative as he scanned the tree. JARVIS followed Loki's eyes, only to pinpoint a strange-looking nest hidden within the branches.

A nest meant a bird. JARVIS supposed it wasn't out of the realm of possibility that a bird could live here, but Loki's expression told him that it was, in fact, quite unusual.

Nevertheless, Loki didn't ask any questions. When Hel gestured for him to step forward, he simply did so—as did Sir.

The ceremony that followed was, for lack of a better word, perfect. Queen Hel didn't speak at first. She waited until the couple joined her underneath the tree. A green circle of incomprehensible runes lit up beneath them.

JARVIS and the bots took position on the right. Edwin and Anna Jarvis were on the left. Fenrir and Sleipnir stood behind the couple, and Hel straight in front. The leaves of the tree rustled straight above them, although JARVIS's sensors detected no wind.

When Queen Hel spoke, her words echoed so clearly JARVIS would have been surprised if the entire realm hadn't heard them. "Life and death are said to be complete opposites, and for the most part, this is true. But they are also complementary. There can be no life without death, and no death without life. For without this cycle, Yggdrasil could not exist. The energy of the Great Tree would be lost.

"But there are other powers that water the roots of Yggdrasil. Chaos. Family. Love. Seidr." She paused, and the circle of green began to glow brighter. Sleipnir's eyes shone emerald, but so did Fenrir's—so did Hel's one live eye.

"For a being of seidr, choosing one's partner is a choice of life and of death," the Queen of the Dead said. "The vows you state here today will follow you until Ragnarok and beyond. Anthony Edward Stark of Midgard, known as the Man of Iron and the Merchant of Death. Loki Laufeyson of Midgard, born Prince Loptr of Jotunheimr, raised as Loki Odinson, God of Chaos, known as Silvertongue and Liesmith. Do you understand and accept this?"

Energy crackled through the air, making the armor's sensors blare wildly. Somehow, JARVIS knew Queen Hel had a very good reason for listing all those titles. Sir seemed oblivious. He only had eyes for Loki. "We do," Loki said.

"U-huh," Sir eloquently added.

Queen Hel's lips twisted into a small smile. "Then state these vows, here witnessed, by family, friends, loved ones, to be heard by all in every realm of Yggdrasil, to be known in the north, in the south, in the east, and in the west, as suns rise and set, as stars wink out and die, and in worlds where there are no suns or stars. State these vows."

Loki cleared his throat signaling that he wanted to be the one to start. "Anthony... My Man of Iron. For a long time, I believed the only person I would love with all my heart would be my son. Since I bore Sleipnir, he has been everything to me. And I am a being of chaos, and the true friends I have in the Nine Realms are so few that I knew I couldn't possibly hope for more. I was content. And then, you came into our lives, a human, a mortal with a heart that glowed like the Tesseract. And you confused me. Who is this man, who would let his own enemy live for the safety of a stranger, who would open his heart and his home to a dangerous alien entity? I did not understand.

"I do not know when I fell in love with you. I suspect it was that very first night, when you looked at my son and called him more beautiful than Shadowfax."

Sleipnir let out a small noise that JARVIS identified as the 'I'm about to pounce' Sleipnir alarm. Still, he didn't move, although the glow around him seemed to increase.

Loki threw a fond glance toward Sleipnir, before focusing on Sir once more. "Of course, at the time, I had no idea what that meant, but I definitely understood the feeling behind it. And since then, since we met, you've shown me so much. You've given Sleipnir and me a home, and you've taught me that it was okay to stop running. I was afraid, Anthony, of so many things—of Asgard, of my Jotnar blood, of being a poor mother for Sleipnir. But you call me beautiful even when I am Jotun, and you stand up to Thor like he is nothing. You love Sleipnir as much as I do. I'm not afraid anymore."

Loki's words seemed hypnotic, as strong as Queen Hel's had been, charged with static sparks of green. Over Sir's shoulder, JARVIS met his namesake's eyes. He wondered if Edwin Jarvis could feel it, the gathering tension. Probably. He smiled at JARVIS even as he took hold of his wife's hand and squeezed it tightly. His eyes were strangely wet.

"Anthony..." Loki continued. "I made a vow to JARVIS the first night we met. I swore to him that I would never harm you, and that I would protect you, insofar as it was possible for me. But today, I make very different vows. I bind myself to you, in oaths of loyalty and promise, with every ounce of seidr that flows through my blood. I am called Silvertongue and Liesmith, but I vow that with you, I will only ever be your Loki, your Loptr." He took a deep breath, as if bracing himself for something. "Beyond my body, my soul, and my magic, I promise you my honesty. Here and now, as witnessed by our family, friends and loved ones, I promise I will never lie to you."

It was quite a vow, especially for one such as Loki. Sir seemed lost. "Lo..."

"I know that it is said that in marriage, it is always wise to keep secrets, but there have been so many secrets and lies in my life. With you, it feels right. And I will love you until Ragnarok and beyond, until Yggdrasil herself collapses."

Loki fell silent. Apparently, his part of the ceremony was done. Then again, that had been quite a speech.

Distantly, JARVIS wished Sir had been the one to speak first, because now, he was conspicuously silent. He just kept staring at Loki, enthralled by Loki's face.

And normally, that would have been quite all right—JARVIS and Sleipnir had actually timed how long Sir could do that, and it was incredibly amusing for them, because as a rule, Sir was terrible at standing still for extended periods of time. However, there was still the little matter of the wedding.

Queen Hel cleared her throat slightly. "Anthony. Your vows now, if you please."

Sir blinked, as if he'd just snapped out of a trance. "Right. Sorry. Right." A long pause. "Fuck. I... I forgot."

JARVIS mentally face-palmed. He knew better than anyone how long Sir had agonized over how he'd wanted to propose. Naturally, the elaborate plan had been thrown out the window, and Sir had proceeded to sketch out the longest wedding vow he could think of, because "he's a prince, Jay, he probably needs all that nobility shit, God, what do I know about that, Jay, come on, help me out here, ideas, give me ideas."

The good thing about this being a private ceremony was that no one was actually surprised at this development. Edwin Jarvis and his wife were both stifling chuckles. Sleipnir was grinning at JARVIS, and Fenrir looked bemused. Loki's lips twisted into a small, mischievous grin. "Come now, Anthony. I'm sure there's something you want to say to me."

The teasing didn't help. If anything, it seemed to make Sir even more nervous. And no one really ever saw this side of Tony Stark. In public, he was charming and he always had the perfect quip ready, but when it came to the things and the people who were truly important for him, he tended to panic. Usually, he threw money at the problem, but he couldn't do that for Loki.

And maybe JARVIS would have been upset about it, but Loki rubbed his long fingers over Sir's knuckles, and slowly Sir started to relax.

"Yeah. I do. Lo... To be honest, after all that, after everything you said, I'm feeling a bit inadequate here. I mean... I did think long and hard about this, but... Damn Silvertongue." Sir let out a low breath. His hold on Loki's hands tightened. "But I'll still do my best. Because see, I do think I have you beat in one thing. I think I fell in love with you the moment I saw you tear apart Stane's armor.

"Technically speaking, it was my design, and I knew exactly what kind of force it would take to bend the metal like that. And I was looking at you and at Stane, and I thought... How is he so beautiful? You were chaos and impossibility and destruction, and I wanted you more than I wanted revenge. And then it turned out that you also had an adorable little boy, and well... That was it. End of story.

"Because here's the thing, Lo. Everything you said about me... It sort of goes both ways. I... Even before Afghanistan, I wasn't happy, not really. I thought I was. It was easy to pretend. But you and Sleipy showed me exactly what I was missing. And you also showed me that it was okay to be who I was, that a part of me would probably always be the Merchant of Death, but that wasn't necessarily a bad thing. So yeah, I loved you from the very beginning, and I only loved you more with every day that passed. I've thought many times about how things could have been different, about how easy it would have been for us to miss one another, but I realize now that it's foolish. Because after being here with you, I see that in any life we lead, no matter what happens, the two of us were always meant to be. Hell, I would have probably loved you even if you had been an evil alien bent on world domination like SHIELD thought—although maybe I'd have felt conflicted about it then."

Loki's expression was torn between the classical "Oh, Anthony" look of exasperation and an almost alarming tremor of awe that JARVIS only ever saw in him when Sir said something particularly inspiring.

"So that is my vow to you," Sir continued. "I vow to always love you, to respond to your honesty with my own, and to always protect you and our family, no matter what it takes. Until Ragnarok and beyond, Lo. In every universe and every world that exists. For all of us."

Anna Jarvis was sobbing now, but she was not the only one who was overwhelmed. Queen Hel was openly gaping, and the shock on her face was all the more striking because she'd taken most everything that had happened so far in stride. JARVIS had the feeling that Sir had said something with a meaning he was missing, but he didn't get to question it. Because in this particular ceremony, there was no "I now pronounce you man and wife" or "spouses" or "partners", as would have been the case. In fact, Queen Hel didn't say anything at all. The circle around Sir and Loki started to glow, so bright not even JARVIS's sensors could distinguish what was happening. Somehow, he knew Sir's vow had been accepted, and he felt... happy. And he knew, beyond a shadow of a doubt, that this moment, in the here and now, had changed something. He couldn't tell why, but he was sure that starting today, everything would be different.

 


	4. Bonds

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Finally finished the next chapter! Aren't you happy? I hope you'll like it.   
> And again, thank you for your kudos and awesome comments. I'm glad you liked Tony's vow. Some consequences, showing here.

Loki had to admit that when he'd first come up with the idea of marrying on Helheim, he had been concerned about Anthony's reaction. It hadn't helped that he'd had a strange feeling ever since coming to the palace, like there was something very important he was missing. There was familiar seidr in the air in Helheim, reminding him of his own. He wondered if perhaps Frigga had come to see Hel, or if it was truly an echo from the tree that seemed to have grown beyond his expectations.

In the end, it didn't really matter, because the moment Anthony said his vows, he felt something inside him shift. Yggdrasil herself latched onto him and Anthony, and his seidr reached for Anthony's energy core—his true core, not the reactor. He could sense it so clearly now, as if there was no interference at all.

The green of the ceremonial circle beneath their feet rose up and flashed around their wrists, settling into something akin to bonding bracelets. Loki's engagement ring—his gift from Anthony—began to glow, the clear diamond turning an iridescent blue and the smaller emeralds set around it burning impossibly bright.

And then, Anthony was pulling him into his arms, crushing their mouths together, and Loki's world was hot and beautiful and perfect. Oh, yes, this was it, this was right—and for this man, he could be everything and anything, he could be both truth and lie, he could be flesh and magic. Because that was what they both were, and Loki's seidr sang with it, with the knowledge that at last, he'd truly found his way home.

****

Tony would never admit it, but the strange tattoo thing that settled over his wrist hurt at first. It burned his skin and it seemed to pool into his chest, cutting his breath, making his head spin.

The disconcerting feeling lasted for only a second, because then Tony knew exactly what he needed to do. He kissed Loki, and hell yes, that was right what the doctor ordered. And Loki was usually an incredible kisser, but somehow, this time around, it was even better. Tony closed his eyes, lost himself into the kiss, and just felt, felt as the green of Loki's magic settled into his skin, into his heart.

He didn't care what anyone said, but Helheim was an awesome place for weddings—at least when you were marrying the God of Mischief.

****

Sleipnir had been waiting for this for so long that now that it had finally happened, it almost felt like a dream. And really, even when he'd been hoping for it, he hadn't expected... this.

The overflow of seidr was so powerful that Sleipnir's knees shook. He stayed in his place, of course—he knew his role was important for the ceremony—but he was still in awe.

He had known his parents were a good match, but it had never been more obvious to him than at that moment. He had always been sensitive to his mother's seidr, and now, here on Helheim, he could see it, see it so clearly. In fact, in the bright green of the runic circle, he could almost see their souls. And there was nothing in the nine realms that could have made him happier than the clear view he had of how much they loved one another.

He was grateful for Fenrir's hold on his shoulders. Fenrir's big hands steadied him, although Sleipnir noticed that they were trembling a little too. Distantly, he wondered if he was providing a similar anchor for his friend.

Smiling, Sleipnir fixed his gaze on his parents. He wanted to imprint this moment in his mind, because whatever fears and doubts he might have had left prior to the wedding, they were now completely gone.

He was safe. His mother was safe. They were both loved. And Sleipnir had the best parents in the nine realms. He was glad now that he'd had the foresight to get them a gift.

****

High above the massive green tree flew a magpie. The bird usually made his nest in the tree in question, and was quite irritated that he'd been chased away by the new arrivals.

The irritation vanished when he saw what was happening.

He knew he should not stay. He knew it with the same certainty that he had known he should not touch the Casket of Ancient Winters. But still, he didn't turn away. Still, he lingered and watched, and his heart cracked a little as he watched one version of himself claim everything he'd ever wanted.

It hurt to see the happiness on the face that both belonged to him and not. It hurt to see his son as he should have been, excited, young, blissful, enthusiastic.

What hurt most was hearing the Man of Iron's vow. _I_ _n any life we lead, no matter what happens, the two of us were always meant to be. I vow to always love you, to respond to your honesty with my own, and to always protect you and our family, no matter what it takes. Until Ragnarok and beyond, Lo. In every universe and every world that exists._ He said it with such certainty, and that was his truth, but for Loki, it was a lie, because it couldn't possibly happen.

He hated Hel then, because she must have put her merchant up to it. Something like that couldn't have just occurred to him, and she always made it so clear that he should visit his own version of Anthony Stark.

His anger gave him the strength to turn away from the scene. Naturally, he flew straight to the stables.

Much to his shame, he stumbled a little as he shifted shapes. He was vibrating, his teeth rattling with shock waves of seidr. Damn Stark anyway.

And then, Sleipnir was there, and he was hugging his son's neck, burying his face in the silver mane. Sleipnir whinnied softly, as if saying, "it's all right, I'm here", and Loki wept, because this was a huge mistake. He might not deserve that kind of vow from anyone, but Sleipnir did deserve better. He deserved happiness and laughter and freedom. He didn't know what to do, didn't know what to make of any of this.

He wasn't sure how long he stayed in the stables, but it must have been a while. Hel finally came for him, just like he had known she would.

"I didn't ask him to make that vow," was the first thing she said.

Loki didn't look at her. He focused on Sleipnir—it was painful, but at the same time, a pain he was deeply familiar with.

"Then why would he say it?"

"I think he felt you at some level. Or perhaps Yggdrasil herself guided his heart. Some things, even I cannot distinguish."

She was telling the truth, of course she was. But that still didn't mean anything. "His vow is nothing more than a pointless hope."

"I don't think that's true. And I don't think you believe it either."

Loki's prized silver tongue failed him. Idly, he thought it must have turned to lead, like Volstagg had said before the trip to Jotunheim, an eternity ago. Shaking himself, Loki simply waited without a word, still not looking at Hel.

But she was not about to let it go so easily. "Loki... You must know what this means. You must know that you are running out of time."

"What would you have me do then?" Loki finally faced her, clenching and unclenching his fists. "Tell me!"

He was aware that he sounded very much like he had back in the Vault, during his argument with Odin. But there was only so long he could hide from the truth. He had tried, Norns only knew that he had tried, but denial would only get him so far.

"Mistress Death is patient, but even her power has its limits."

Loki winced. He didn't want to think about that, or about why he needed Mistress Death's favor and power. It had been hard enough to come to that particular realization, to the point that he'd turned away from it until he could not ignore it any longer.

"So would you have me go to her then? Go back to the void?"

The thought made him grow cold inside, colder than even his Jotnar self could ever be. If he had known what horrors lay beyond the reach of the Bifrost, he would have never let go.

"Not yet," she replied. "I simply want you to be ready, and for your Man of Iron to understand what is required of him as well."

Loki's shoulders slumped. "He should not have to be pulled into this all over again."

Hel squeezed his shoulder gently. Her flesh hand felt warm, almost striking so. "Trust in him, Loki. You might be surprised at what you find."

Once again, Loki remembered the vow, the Man of Iron's loyalty to his other self, Sleipnir's happiness. Perhaps it was too much to hope for—he was not the same man who had wed Anthony Stark in Helheim—but could he really afford not making the attempt? He had to try, if only for Sleipnir. "As you will, then, my queen. We shall do things your way."

****

For as long as anyone could remember, Frigga had been the All-Mother, the Queen of Asgard, and the Goddess of Marriage and Motherhood. Many of her duties came as second nature to her. Some did not.

It was, perhaps, ironic, that she of all people had turned out to be such a horrible mother to the child who had needed her most. She had never made her peace with it. She didn't think she ever would.

From the moment Odin had placed Loki into her arms, she had only ever wanted him to be happy. He had been such an adorable child, so different from Thor, quiet, yet mischievous, eager to learn, incredibly affectionate.

She did not know at which point he had learned it was a mistake to show that hidden warmth inside him. Whenever it was, she had missed it, just like she had missed countless other things.

Thinking back, Frigga could still not understand how things had gotten away from her so. One moment, her boys were playing together, inseparable, and the next, Thor was holding Loki down for that Norns-bedamned dwarf to sew his lips shut.

That was the moment when she had understood that the All-Mother could never be truly queen, and the Queen of Asgard could never truly be All-Mother. As a queen, she could not afford to speak against her king. As the All-Mother, she should have. And she stayed silent.

The wall was another incredible example of her failure. By then, Asgard's attitude toward Loki had soured immensely, even if he had been only a boy. She had not been able to believe her ears when they had blamed him for the whole thing. And again, she'd been unable to do anything when they'd sent him off to stop something that should have never been his responsibility.

She felt the spark of life when it ignited inside Loki, and it broke her heart. Odin did not tell her until it was far too late, but he didn't have to. She knew.

And that was when Frigga had had a moment of clarity. They all expected to go to him, like she always did. She had done so countless times in the past, providing a warm, comforting embrace when all was said and done, telling him "everything is going to be all right, my Loki." And Loki believed her every time. He was such a good liar, but he always let her get away with her own deceptions.

The vision was brief, but there, and she knew that if she continued in that same vein, disaster would strike. Her Loki would likely become only a tool for Odin to use. In all honesty, that was the only thing he'd ever been, at least for Odin. And eventually, it would crack Loki's soul and mind open.

She had not gone. And Loki had left, disappearing under the veil of his own magic.

She had mourned her mistakes for centuries. She watched Thor grow into a man, and it pained her all the more, because Thor had not needed her, not really, and Loki had. And she had cried when she'd realized that she had picked one son over the other, the throne and her husband over her beautiful Loki.

Thus, when Heimdall first told them he had sensed Loki on Midgard, Frigga had not dared to hope. Thor's subsequent return—with Sif in a ghastly state—had paradoxically changed that.

Because Thor was angry, but he told her everything she needed to know. Loki was safe. He had found a lover, someone who could give him the protection and undisguised affection Frigga had never been able to provide.

Frigga knew better than to believe Loki would ever forgive her, and she knew she did not deserve it, but at least, she had this now. She had the knowledge that the child of her heart was happy.

She said nothing of it, of course. The Lady Sif's injury had everyone in quite a state. Eir was beyond confused, since nothing she did seemed to be able to cut the thread.

Frigga took one look at the wound and knew the Lady Sif would be silenced for exactly the same amount of time Loki had.

She did not get further involved. Her husband was in the Odinsleep still, and she needed to watch over him. She hated him for what he had done to Loki, to their family, but she still had her duty—and she hated herself for that even more.

Thor often came to see her. Sometimes, he didn't speak at all, seeming entire realms away. But on that day, he spoke.

"I saw Sif today," he said. "It is difficult for me to look at her."

"I can imagine," Frigga replied neutrally, wondering where he was going with this. "She is your friend."

"I remembered... The time it happened to Loki." Thor rubbed his chest, as if he was trying to chase away a phantom pain. "I remember I didn't feel that way."

Frigga's breath caught. That was putting it quite lightly. She turned away from her weaving and faced her son. "It was always easy to blame Loki for everything that went wrong," she whispered. She couldn't tell him he hadn't been at fault. She was tired of comforting deceptions.

"Mother... You love Loki still, do you not?"

"Of course I do." Much to her dismay, Frigga found that she sounded a little outraged. "He is my son."

"Why didn't you go to him then? Why don't you go now?"

Frigga looked away from Thor. "You know why."

"But his blood doesn't matter, does it?" Thor shot to his feet so quickly his chair fell back. "He is still my brother and your son."

"Yes, but he is not Asgardian. And for all that he is my child, he is not Odin's." Frigga was very aware that her husband could still hear the conversation even when in the Odinsleep, but she had always made the feelings on the matter clear. She fixed Thor with a piercing glare. "I might be queen, Thor, but that meant nothing. I was powerless, and your father, who could have helped him, did not. In the end, the only thing I could do was give him a shoulder to cry on. But I thought it would be far better for him to leave Asgard, for him to find a better future elsewhere." She clenched her jaw. "I made a mistake. I should have left with him."

She did not mean to say that, even if it was the truth. It had broken her heart into a million pieces, knowing that her son was alone, needing her, recovering from such a horrific act, and that her presence would just compound the problem. And she had known he needed to leave Asgard, if there was to be any hope for him.

It was only after he had left that she finally processed her mistake, and how wrong she'd been yet again. Her son was so young, and now he had a child of his own. Loki was clever and strong in magic—he would survive, of that she had no doubt—but he should have never been forced into the position to begin with. It was so easy, really. She should have just gone with him, left Asgard together. But she had not done so, because for all that she was the Goddess of Motherhood, she was a horrible mother.

Thor made a strange noise in his throat. "Mother..."

"Don't, my son. Just don't." Frigga shook her head and straightened her back. There was no point in dumping her burdens on Thor. "It is too late now anyway. Loki will never forgive me. He will never forgive any of us. He has a new family."

"The mortal? But Mother... You can't possibly approve!"

"Why not? He loves Loki, and he's done more for Loki in what little time they've had than we did in centuries. Of course I approve."

That was when she felt it. A strange wave of magic rushed through her, echoing from the very core of Asgard, from the Great Tree herself. Frigga's eyes widened. She reached for her weave and scrambled for her seidr, seeking out its source.

Loki's shields had only dropped for a little while, when he'd actively summoned Thor to him. He had not bothered to keep them up now. Or maybe he had not been able to.

Frigga's visions were limited, and truly not as helpful as she'd have liked. Her husband rarely listened to her. But this time around, she saw everything so clearly, like it was right there, in front of her.

She saw Loki on Helheim, standing in front of a great green tree, his hands entwined with those of a mortal. No, not a mortal. Anthony Stark, yes, the man Thor had mentioned—but a man whose life thread was now entwined to Loki's.

The wedding runes sank into their bodies and the vows echoed all throughout the foundation of Yggdrasil. And Frigga, as the Goddess of Marriage, sensed something deeply special about this particular vow.

It was unwise, but she could not wait any longer. She shot to her feet, startling Thor. "Thor, I am afraid I am needed elsewhere. Stay here for a little while and watch over your father. Before I leave, I will speak to Eir and have her replace me at his side."

Thor's eyes were very wide. "Mother? What is it? Is something wrong with Loki?"

Frigga would have loved to share the news with Thor, but unfortunately, she could not. It wasn't even solely about Thor's own reaction. She didn't know if Heimdall had seen the ceremony, and if he hadn't, it was better to keep it that way.

"I'm afraid I cannot explain now, my son, but I will, as soon as it is possible." She kissed his cheek. "Be at ease. Your brother is fine."

He nodded slowly, but he didn't look like he believed her. Frigga couldn't blame him. It was, after all, very rare for her to leave her husband's side when he was in the Odinsleep.

But not even Frigga, with all her magics, could be in two places at the same time. And she had chosen Asgard over Loki on countless occasions. It was time to make the right choice.

 


	5. Civil War

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yes, the title is a reference to the CW trailer. Yes, I'm a ridiculous, ridiculous person. Enjoy anyway! :D And as always, kudos, comments and subscriptions are FTW. Thank you all!

When Sleipnir had said Hel threw the best parties, Tony hadn't quite known what to expect. After all, his current view of Helheim was that it wasn't exceedingly festive. And really, he couldn't even begin to imagine Hel's palace echoing with music. (Although he did make a mental note to procure Highway to Hell and play it here eventually. He didn't know how it hadn't occurred to him to make preparations for it.)

At any rate, after the ceremony, they all relocated to the throne room. Hel was quiet, and something about her stance put Tony ill at ease. He hadn't messed anything up, had he?

The throne room itself was pretty much what one would expect to find in the Realm of the Dead. The actual throne was made out of bone, and that should have creeped Tony out, but mostly he thought it looked uncomfortable.

What did surprise Tony was that somehow, Hel had managed to arrange for an entire feast. The massive tables in the throne room were laden with dishes. Tony recognized some, while others were completely unfamiliar.

Sleipnir whooped and made a beeline for a bowl that turned out to hold fondue. He dragged Fenrir along. "Come on, Fen. You have to try this."

"This meal is safe for you to sample, my merchant," Hel said, speaking for the first time. "Please, enjoy it. I must apologize, but I am needed elsewhere."

Judging by Loki's expression, Hel's departure was unusual. Tony couldn't really hope to understand every nuance of royal protocol, but he gathered that as a hostess, Hel should have stayed. That much was pretty common at any party.

"Do you think there's something wrong?" he asked Loki once Hel was gone.

"I think we're going to have a visitor," Loki replied. "But I suppose I should have expected it."

Tony scowled. "Should we be worried?"

Loki shook his head. "Hel is queen here, and not even Asgard would dare to trespass on her domain. We'll just have to wait and see what happens."

He threaded his fingers with Tony and smiled slightly. "For now, come. Let's rejoin our family."

Tony was still unsettled, but he decided to trust Loki's assessment. It was easier than expected, since there was nothing quite like watching Sleipnir toss fondue at Fenrir to make all the shadows disappear.

A massive food fight ensued, and Tony found himself laughing harder than he had in a long time. Sleipnir and Fenrir both shifted, running around the throne room and chasing one another. As the loving father he was, Tony had to pick Sleipnir's side. He grabbed something that looked like a pie and threw it at the massive wolf.

Fenrir somehow managed to dodge, but his attention was drawn to Tony. Tony had the time to think "oh shit" before Fenrir pounced toward him.

Seconds before Fenrir could reach him, JARVIS swept in and lifted him out of the day. Loki tsked. "Anthony, you really should not encourage Sleipnir."

A thread of green entwined around the suit's boot, dragging the armor down. JARVIS lost his hold on Tony, but Tony still somehow managed to drop down to the floor like a gymnast. Go him.

He got up and looked around, only to receive a pie straight in the face. Cursing, Tony took refuge behind a table, wondering whether he was seeing things or if Fenrir was really launching food projectiles with his paws. That was really more than mildly alarming.

Jarvis and Anna remained out of it. Jarvis tried to look disapproving, but he seemed too amused. Anna was openly laughing, and Tony could have sworn she was making bets on who would win. The bots looked confused, but eventually seemed to decide to attack everyone except each other and, conspicuously, JARVIS. Tony was somewhat put out that they were strikingly accurate with their aim. Then again, the bots had always been good at breaking things.

Despite being against the whole thing at first, Loki eventually decided to take Fenrir's side, if only to even the odds a bit. It turned into an all out civil war, and in all honesty, Tony had no idea who was winning. Obviously, Loki was stronger, but he was somewhat holding back. Meanwhile, Sleipnir had no such intentions, and he was very very fast. He often appeared out of nowhere, flashing straight next to Tony or JARVIS just before a projectile could hit them. One time, he manifested next to the table closest to Loki and Fenrir and struck it with his hooves—hard. The table flipped and most of the food on it went flying.

As fast as Fenrir was, he couldn't dodge everything. Loki teleported away, but in the process, he turned his attention from Tony. A particularly large piece of fruit hit him straight in the back of his head. Tony almost felt bad about messing up Loki's beautiful hair—almost, but not quite.

Loki turned toward him, eyes glinting a ferocious green. Tony gulped. It was never good news when Loki got that expression. Tony braced himself for the unavoidable consequences of his folly.

He did not expect his chest to spike with sudden pain.

It was weirdly disconcerting. Tony was aware of Loki's eyes widening with panic, but at the same time, he felt like he was in Afghanistan all over again. The shrapnel was biting into his flesh, inching closer and closer to his heart. But no, that couldn't be right. The shrapnel was gone. Loki had taken care of it. Loki... Was Loki in Afghanistan? What... No...

Tony stumbled and fell forward, blindly clawing at his chest, trying to figure out what was happening. Loki caught him before he could hit the floor. Tony looked up at Loki's familiar, beloved face and cupped his cheek. His fingers left trails of blood on Loki's fair skin.

Loki's mouth was moving, but Tony couldn't hear what he was saying. He felt like he was underwater, his hearing blocked, his vision blurred. Loki briefly turned away and gestured wildly to someone else, but Tony pulled him back in. He didn't want Loki to go. If he was going to die, he needed to be in Loki's arms. It was selfish—but Tony had always been a pretty selfish guy.

Sleipnir and JARVIS were also suddenly there. Sleipnir was crying, but his face was set in a decisive scowl that contrasted sharply with the tears sliding down his cheeks. He told Loki something, but Loki shook his head and gestured toward Tony.

Sleipnir didn't protest. He simply shifted back into his horse shape and lay down onto the floor. Loki leaned Tony against Sleipnir, and Sleipnir's warmth comforted Tony, even if he immediately missed Loki's scent.

Loki bent over him and pressed their mouths together. It did a wonderful job of distracting Tony, so he was only mildly aware of Loki's hands of his chest. There was a strange sensation of suction, a pop and a release, and Tony screamed against Loki's mouth as something inside him twisted and clenched.

Obie... Oh, God, Obie... Obie was pulling the reactor out all over again. No, no, he couldn't die. He needed to live. He needed to live for Loki and Sleipy and Jay and the bots—and everything he'd ever promised.

Loki broke their kiss. His mouth was bleeding and his eyes were glowing impossibly green. The reactor was in his hand, and then it just vanished, like the first one had during the battle at the SI Headquarters.

And maybe Tony should have felt betrayed, should have compared the two situations—but for some reason, he didn't. For some reason, he finally understood.

Something clicked, like a piece of a puzzle sliding into place. His mind cleared and he could hear again.

The first thing that came to him was Loki's ragged desperate words. "… can't lose you. You can't give up."

"N-Never," Tony managed to stammer out. "I never give up."

Loki's eyes widened. "Anthony? Anthony, can you hear me?"

Tony nodded, but even the slight motion pulled at his chest. "Lo... Oh, fuck. It hurts."

"Breathe. I know it hurts. This isn't how I expected this to go."

In that moment, Tony was gripped by that odd urge people always had during surgery. So far, he'd managed to keep his gaze on Loki's face, but his ridiculous curiosity won out. At some level, he thought it couldn't possibly be worse than waking up in Afghanistan with a massive hole in his sternum and a battery strapped to his chest.

He was wrong.

His torso was a mess of splintered metal and bone. There was so much blood. Tony hastily looked away and struggled not hyperventilate. It didn't really work.

JARVIS's metal hand landed on his own. "Sir, breathe. Everything is going to be all right."

"Something changed in the ceremony," Loki added. "Your body is rejecting the reactor. But you are going to be fine. I promise."

For a second time, Loki's hands landed on his chest. The pain began to numb and Tony's panic faded with it. Loki's seidr seemed to reach straight into him, and Tony became aware of that very same part of him that had flared to life during the ceremony. His wrists burned, but it wasn't painful. It anchored him.

Tony fixed his gaze on Loki again. Loki had that expression of intense focus once more, the one that fascinated Tony, especially when it was directed at him. And Tony could suddenly see threads of blue and green pulsing through the air, hiding underneath Loki's skin like little veins and then trickling out, winding around them both.

Loki's mouth didn't move, but Tony could have sworn he heard a litany of _"please, please, please,"_ echoing in his head. Before Tony could make sense of it, the threads started to... not dissipate, no—that wasn't the right word. They simply loosened, settling into something more sedate. Tony could no longer see the threads, but he could feel them.

And then he blinked, and all the weirdness seemed gone. He became aware of everything he had barely registered during his fit. There was so much to take in, from Sleipnir's agitated snorting—the equivalent of weeping in horse form, he supposed—to the glow of the Iron Man armor's eyes—and only JARVIS could make the suit look concerned. DUM-E and U had somehow wiggled their way past JARVIS and were observing the scene with a stillness that was quite striking. Jarvis and Anna were hovering over the armor's shoulder, although Tony couldn't quite tell if they were actually floating or not. And of course, there was Loki. He was still covered in the remnants from their little battle and he was incredibly pale, almost frighteningly so.

"You okay, Lo?" Tony heard himself ask.

The tension in the room seemed to shatter. "Oh, Anthony. Only you could ask that after what just happened."

"To be honest, I'm still not very sure what that is," Tony replied.

Once again, he stared down at his chest—only to be struck dumb. There were still traces of blood of course, but the gruesome sight from before had vanished.

Then again, so had the reactor, as well as the hole in his sternum. That in itself wouldn't have necessarily shocked Tony so much—they'd been discussing it for a while now—but beneath the now smooth skin, his chest still glowed blue. Tony stared at himself and said, "Well, shit."

Loki would just have to forgive him for cursing in front of Sleipnir, because this was one of those moments when it was very, very warranted.

It looked like Loki agreed too. "That definitely answers the question as to whether you have magic or not," he said with a small smile.

As Loki helped Tony up, Tony found himself surrounded by his enthusiastic and concerned family. Sleipnir finally shifted back into his human form and hugged Tony so tight it almost hurt. The bots joined in, while JARVIS supported a suddenly-exhausted looking Loki.

And of course, because Tony couldn't possibly catch a break, that was when Fenrir burst into the room, followed by Hel and a beautiful blond woman. Tony had never seen her before, but somehow, he knew she was Queen Frigga.

It seemed the excitement at their wedding was only just beginning.

 


	6. The Queen of the Dead

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Greetings and salutations! I'll be brief this morning :D As always, to everyone who kudos-ed, subscribed and commented. The feedback helps more than you know.   
> The next few updates will probably be for A Friend for a Week. In the meantime, enjoy the Loki family chaos!

Hel had always loved her father. Ever since she had been a little girl, she had admired him for his great strength and the magic he wielded.

In time, the man who had actually sired her had changed, and so had she. But her affection for her father remained. And due to the nature of her powers and her current position, that love extended toward all his incarnations. Since he was as chaotic and problematic in most, if not all the realities he inhabited, Hel often had to step in.

Normally, it wasn't as difficult as one would have thought. Being Queen of the Dead came with responsibilities, yes, but the souls largely took care of themselves, and Hel didn't actually have to physically monitor the entry of each and every one of them. Here in Helheim, the shadows could extend to do her bidding and a part of her mind was always dedicated to this task.

But when it came to Loki, things could never be that easy, and having two Lokis in Helheim at the same time—albeit in different ways—obviously came with complications.

She did not know what to make of the Man of Iron's vow, beyond the fact that she suspected she would get a visit from Mistress Death soon. There would be further consequences, for Anthony Stark himself and for Loki—both in their own universe, and in all the others. But not even Hel, with all her power, could truly guess what those consequences might be.

Her merchant was truly remarkable to be able to take even one such as her by surprise.

The problem was that her more permanent guest did not take the vow that well. And between his reaction and the fact that her presence was required at the wedding ceremony... It was all quite chaotic. She supposed it made sense—this was Loki, after all, and he could not have been matched with someone who wasn't as chaotic as he was.

She wanted to spend a little more time with her Helheim Loki, to discuss the next steps they would take, but she didn't get the chance. She felt the intrusive presence the very same instant it appeared at the gates of Helheim.

"What is it?" Loki asked, perceptive as ever.

"Queen Frigga has come. She must have sensed the wedding between her son and Anthony Stark."

Loki twitched. He knew that this Frigga was not his mother, just like he himself was not Hel's father. But this was a difficult time for him, and he still carried many regrets.

He turned toward Sleipnir once again. "I see," he said simply. "I will be here in the stables with my son."

He didn't tell her to go—he was often so self-conscious and excessively aware of protocol. Hel truly wished she could provide some words of comfort. How ironic that out of all the souls that slid past her gates, it was the one she cared for most that she could not help.

She comforted herself with the idea that Loki was here and not in the Mad Titan's hands—at least for now. Norns only knew how long she could keep things that way. So many things depended on Anthony Stark... She didn't even want to think about the possibility that her plan might not work.

Perhaps it was just as well that Frigga had come. If nothing else, she provided a distraction.

The Queen of Asgard was waiting at the gates of Helheim when Hel manifested in front of her. She wore her fabled feather cloak—clearly she had not come here via Bifrost. In all likelihood, no one even knew where she had gone, but that was not entirely surprising. Loki's seidr was more powerful than Frigga's, but he had learned a great deal under her tutoring.

Frigga bowed, acknowledging Hel's authority. "Queen Hel. I come in search of my son."

"Do you?" Hel asked. "Is the one you seek truly your son, or is he merely a foundling of Jotnar blood?"

She could not say it as a statement, since it was not true. Loki was her child, by heart if not by blood. As much as he denied her now and even if his lineage made him Laufeyson, the bond between him and Frigga would never fully fade.

Frigga briefly closed her eyes, as if in pain. The moment passed quickly and she straightened her back, every inch the queen. "Loki is my son," she said again. "You know I speak truth. I realize he might not want to see me, but I sensed the moment of his bonding."

"And do you wish to give him your blessing, as the Goddess of Marriage?"

Frigga shook her head. "I wish to give him my blessing, as his mother. I wish to see him again, to meet his child and his husband. But even if that is not possible, I wish to know that he is well. The force I felt within Yggdrasil... It was incredibly startling."

Hel could not argue against that, so she didn't even try. "The love between Anthony Edward Stark and Loki Laufeyson is great. Their vows carry echoes all through the Tree and its numerous branches. But they are both..."

She was going to say "well", but the word didn't come out of her mouth. Suddenly, she knew something was not right. She threw a glance toward the palace.

As if on cue, Fenrir manifested in front of her. He was still in wolf form and his fur was covered in massive amounts of food. But his eyes were wild with panic, much like they had been the day she had first released him from his chains.

He didn't bother to change shapes. "Sister, you must come quick. Something is wrong with the Man of Iron."

He didn't often call her "sister", and he only did so when they were in private, or just with Loki and Sleipnir. The fact that he'd done it in front of Frigga spoke volumes of his agitation.

Hel did not have time to reassure the Queen of Asgard. She needed to go see to Anthony Stark. Besides, Frigga was an excellent healer. Who knew? The Norns might have decreed that it was time for Frigga and Loki to meet once more.

"Queen Frigga, take my hand. It looks like you will get your wish."

She offered the queen her flesh hand, knowing Fenrir would be able to follow without her touching him. Frigga took it without hesitation. If nothing else, she was clearly eager to see Loki.

Helheim twisted and shifted around them as she willed them to the throne room, where she had left her new guests. Much to her dismay, her spell didn't work as she wished it to. She couldn't take them directly to their destination. That had never happened before. There seemed to be some sort of interference in the air, a blend of seidr both unfamiliar and not.

As much as she loved Loki, Hel had to admit that sometimes, the chaos he brought was truly astounding.

She directed the spell to the closest spot she could find, and Fenrir followed, attuned to her magic. The delay was still quite considerable, and by the time she was entering the throne room—the regular way—the weird blend of seidr was beginning to settle.

The throne room itself had seen better days. She could now see where the mess in Fenrir's fur had come from. The meals she had brought in from Midgard, Alfheim and Vanaheim had somehow ended on the floor.

Hel didn't even blink at that. She had in fact expected it. A visit from Sleipnir usually came with some sort of destruction, mischievous pranks that nonetheless would have given Hel a lot of trouble if this hadn't been her realm. She would have been more surprised if Sleipnir hadn't somehow managed to make the entire throne room explode in her absence.

Loki blinked, as if he'd just realized the massive breach of protocol he'd committed. His voice sounded shaky when he said, "Queen Hel, we apologize for the mess. We did not mean to insult your hospitality."

He sounded so much like the Loki she had just left in the stables that it took her aback. Clearly enough, it wasn't the food fight that was the problem. Not even Frigga's presence could have done that. So what had been wrong with the Man of Iron?

Anthony Stark was standing on his own two feet, but Sleipnir was clinging to him and hadn't even looked at her when she'd come in. The air was so thick with tension Hel's bones vibrated with it. The air smelled like blood—mortal blood.

"Loki, don't be ridiculous," she said. "You know I care not for such things. What I want to know is what had Fenrir so frantic." She turned toward Anthony. "Are you well, my merchant?"

"I'm fine, mostly." He smiled sheepishly, as if to apologize for whatever had happened. "A little shaken. Confused."

Hel couldn't blame him, since she was quite confused as well. "I see. We'll discuss it in more detail presently. For the moment, I'd like you to meet Queen Frigga of Asgard. Queen Frigga, this is Anthony Edward Stark of Midgard, known as the Man of Iron and the Merchant of Death."

Frigga curtsied. "It is truly a pleasure and an honor to meet you, Man of Iron."

Anthony bowed—insofar as he could, at least, given Sleipnir's hold on him. "Thank you, Your Majesty. I have very much looked forward to meeting you."

It was a bit of vague and awkward comment, but then, Helheim often messed with polite platitudes. Even Loki, with all his seidr and Hel's support, had trouble putting up illusions.

Hel made the rest of the introductions, and Frigga greeted them all just like she had with Anthony. Loki had not moved. Hel didn't acknowledge him at all, knowing that the exchange had to start from him—not Hel herself, and definitely not Frigga.

It took longer than would have been strictly necessary. Mostly, Hel sought to give Loki time to relax, to process that his family was all right, before forcing him to face something else.

Queen Frigga took it in stride. Her gaze never wondered long from Loki, but neither did she try to reach for him when she wasn't invited.

Loki's shoulders gradually turned less rigid. His eyes were less like snake venom and more like emeralds. His seidr settled back down under his skin.

Finally, Anthony cleared his throat and poked Loki's side. He leaned closer to Loki and whispered something in his ear.

It was so soft Hel barely heard it. If they'd been anywhere else and not Hel's own throne room, she would have probably missed it.

"Talk to your mother, Lo."

Loki shook his head and turned toward Anthony. "Now is not the time."

He didn't bother keeping his voice down. Frigga's face contorted painfully. But Hel's merchant was pretty determined. "There's never a good time for something like this. Tell you what? I'll take Sleipy for a breath of fresh air. It will do him good. Beyond that, it's your call, okay?"

Loki obviously didn't want to leave his new husband, especially not so soon. And he obviously didn't want to leave his son, who still seemed very upset. It was perhaps unsurprising that Sleipnir was in fact the one to decide in his place.

He finally tore himself away from Anthony and glanced toward Loki. "It's okay, Mama. Father is right. You should do this."

"Sleipnir..."

"It's fine," Sleipnir insisted. "Father and I won't go far."

Hel decided it was time for her to step in, if only slightly. "I can accompany them if you wish, Loki."

"I won't leave Sir's side," JARVIS added.

Weirdly, JARVIS's comment was the one that tipped Loki over. He let out a slow breath and nodded. "Very well. You win." At last, he faced Frigga, his eyes glinting with something fierce and decisive. "Queen Frigga. It seems that my family has decided we should speak. Would you do me the honor to grant me an audience?"

Hel didn't know who was more surprised when Frigga shook her head—Loki, Anthony or Hel herself. "As much as I wish to speak to you, my son, you are right. Now is not the time." She was trembling slightly, barely managing to cling to the threads of her composure. "Loki. My dear child... I have already taken enough from you. I won't take more. But I beg your leave to visit you on Midgard, at some time in the future. Perhaps we can speak then."

Loki turned to look at Anthony and then finally glanced back at Frigga. "Yes, of course. Maybe you can join us for tea the day after tomorrow?"

Frigga's eyes teared up. "Tea. Yes, I would like that very much."

Hel knew for a fact that Loki and Frigga had often had tea together while Loki had been growing up. She wasn't sure if Loki had deliberately made the choice or not—he wasn't in the best state of mind right about now—but it did mean something, and it gave Hel hope that perhaps Loki and Frigga could fix their relationship.

Because Hel did not like Frigga. For her own father, she had been an enemy. But for this Loki, and the Loki in Sleipnir's stables, she was a mother, and in her own way, she had given Loki affection. Even after centuries of being gone from Asgard, Loki had not been able to cut her from his heart. Hel was not selfish enough to want them to be kept apart.

Even so, she was glad when Frigga wrapped herself in her feather cloak once again. "With your permission, Queen Hel, I will take my leave."

"Yes, of course. Farewell, Queen Frigga."

With one last smile in Loki's direction, Frigga turned into a bird and disappeared in a blur of magic. Once she was gone, Hel's merchant cleared his throat. "Well, that was definitely something."

Loki said nothing. Instead, he stalked to Anthony's side and kissed him straight on the mouth.

Smiling, Hel waved her hand in the air. The entwined figures of the newly married couple vanished. With a thought, Hel deposited them in Loki's old rooms, already prepared for them.

Once she was sure they were safe, she directed her attention toward Sleipnir. JARVIS had picked him up in his arms and he had been very brave, but he must still be shaken after the entire episode.

Remarkably, though, Sleipnir didn't seem upset that his parents were gone. In fact, he smiled. "This is where Mama and Father get some time for themselves, right, JARVIS?"

"Yes, indeed," JARVIS confirmed. "As I mentioned to Sir earlier, the wedding night usually comes after the wedding."

Truly, Sleipnir was a marvel. In every world and shape he existed, he had carried a heavy burden. And yet, somehow, he could still smile and be hopeful. He could still love so very much. He was an amazing gift.

"It seems it's my lucky day then," she said with a smile, "since it means I get you all to myself."

Slowly, as they played together, the shadows of Hel's magic chased away those of the fear in Sleipnir's eyes. And if it wasn't solely for Sleipnir's sake, well... No one but Hel would have to know.

 

**Author's Note:**

> I won't lie, the imagery in Hel's castle will probably be heavily influenced by Crimson Peak.


End file.
